Bit by Bit of you
by Nutcase friend
Summary: A collection of Short stories from the point of view of several characters, including Lupin, Sirius, Draco and even Oliver Wood. No character is too small. Each chapter is a different one-shot or short story, all different lengths. They're all set within the events of the books, sometimes very iconic scene, simply told from a different view, or sometimes a little more different.
1. Chapter 1

Remus stood in the middle of the platform, the only one around, taking in the sight of the Hogwarts Express. He hadn't seen the train in fifteen years, but it looked exactly the same; not a flaw in the shining, scarlet metal, the compartment windows open to reveal the same comfy seats inside, even the steam smelled the same as always, taking Remus back to when he first saw it. Nervous and shaky, he hadn't truly believed he was getting on the train back then, to a school of magic, where he could learn without his classmates in fear of him.  
Even now, looking at it, he still held that same nervousness. No matter Dumbledore's confidence in him, Remus Lupin, the werewolf, would never forget what he was and how people would treat him if they found out. Things wouldn't be so bad, if Lilly, James, and Peter were alive, and Sirius not an escaped criminal. Although, Remus wouldn't know what he would do if he came across the traitor…  
Remus took a deep breath and looked at his watch. It was ten o'clock, an hour early, but this way he could find a compartment and get some sleep.  
He boarded the train and made his way to the compartment at the very end, sitting himself next to the window in the far corner. If anyone had to share his compartment, he wanted to be as little a nuisance as possible. He wrapped his cloak around him and placed his head against the wall, and felt his tiredness stumble onto him, like it always did when he managed to get a break, and he dozed off quickly.

It was probably an hour later when his slumber was disturbed. He didn't open his eyes, hoping that it was just some students passing. He could hear the babble on the rest of the train that indicated they were about to leave for Hogwarts, full of the students lucky enough to go to a Wizarding school.  
But against his lucky, the door opened, and he continued to pretend to be asleep. He didn't want to make the students nervous.  
"Who d'you recon he is?" A boy's voice hissed as Remus heard more than one student come in. It sounded like three, and they took the seats furthest from him.  
"Professor R.J Lupin," A new voice said, belonging to a girl.  
"How d'you know that?" The first voice said.  
"It's on his case." The girl replied.  
Remus tried not to smile a little. _Clever. I bet that's a Ravenclaw.  
_ "Wonder what he teaches?" said the boy again. Remus was surprised that the other hadn't spoken.  
"That's obvious," whispered the girl. "There's only one vacancy, isn't there? Defence Against the Dark Arts."  
 _Right again.  
_ "Well, I hope he's up to it," the first boy said doubtfully, "He looks like one good hex would finish him off, doesn't he? Anyway," the boy directed his attention away, "What were you going to tell us?"  
It was the third student, and Remus' heart jumped into his throat when he heard them speak. _  
It can't be, don't be stupid. James is dead._  
The more he listened in on the conversation, the more the dots connected, and Remus' heart was beating so hard he was afraid they'd notice. But no, they were too consumed talking about Sirius, and the Weasley's were mentioned.  
Finally, the girl said, "Sirius Black escaped to come after _you?_ Oh Harry…"  
 _It IS Harry!  
_ "… you'll have to be really, really careful. Don't go looking for trouble, Harry-,"  
"I don't go looking for trouble, trouble usually finds _me._ "  
 _Merlin's beard, he's so like James,_ Remus thought, trying not to get emotional. He risked cracking his eyes open a fraction, and his heart skipped a beat when he saw the boy, for the first time since Lilly and James' death. Harry.

Remus must have fell asleep again, dreaming about his old friends and their time at Hogwarts, when he was awoken with a jolt. The train had stopped, and rocked suddenly. The lights were out, and a cold was seeping unnaturally through the glass.  
 _Oh no, Dementors._ Remus knew immediately the feeling.  
He opened his eyes in the dark, but there wasn't much difference. There was, however, more voices in the compartment, hushed and slightly panicked.  
"-Who's that?"  
"Who's That?"  
"Ginny?"  
"Hermione?"  
"What are you doing?"  
"I was looking for Ron-,"  
"Come and sit down-,"  
"Not here!' Harry said hurriedly. " _I'm_ here."  
"Ouch!" Said another newcomer. Remus could feel the Dementor getting closer, and spoke up.  
"Quiet!" his voice sounded hoarse, even to him, and everyone in the compartment feel silent, obviously shocked to hear him for the first time. He shifted to be more comfortable, and put his coat on, before casting silently in his head, and a small fire appears in his hands. Five anxious faces looked up at him. He must have looked ragged, especially in this light, but his eyes were fixed on the corridor beyond the door.  
"Stay where you are." He said, and got slowly to his feet, careful not to trip on any of the many legs. But he had to stop.  
In the doorway, stood a Dementor. Remus had forgotten how tall they were, how foreboding. His heart sank as the cold crept up his fingers and down his throat. Then, he took in a long, rattling breath, which Remus immediately recognized, and tried pushing away horrible thoughts and memories in his mind, of times he'd watching his fingers change before him under the light of a fierce, blazing moon…  
Harry went stiff beside him, then slid to the floor next to him, and his friends gave out gasps of worry, and a girl with bushy hair knelt next to him, but she looked up again at the dementor.  
Remus clenched his jaw and gathered his wits, and stepped over Harry carefully. He drew his wand, and pointed it at the Dementor, who stopped its terrifying breath.  
"None of us is hiding Sirius Black under our cloaks. Go."  
The dementor seemed to consider him, but then loomed forward. Remus scowled, then muttered,  
" _Expecto Patromun,"_ thinking about happy memories of his friends, all sitting at the Potter's house, watching a young Harry play with a small Griffin toy. His Patronus' true form didn't appear, but enough of it did to make the Dementor retreat down the corridor, and Remus stepped into the hallway to make sure it exited the train fully.  
Then, they all waited a tense few moments, then the light flickered back on, and the train gave a jolt as it started up again. Remus let out a breath of relief and leaned against the door frame.  
There was sudden movement, as the tall, red-head boy knelt on the floor as well, a red-head girl leaned from where she was sitting and a round-faced boy had to lean against the wall, still shaking slightly.  
"What's wrong with Harry?" The red-head boy asked.  
"I don't know Ron, I don't know what that thing was so I don't know how to-,"  
"He'll be alright," Remus said calmly, standing straight. "Dementor's are nasty, especially for people like Harry."  
The girl with bushy hair went tight-lipped, then looked down at Harry and started gently slapping his face, "Harry! Harry! Are you all right?"  
Harry's eyes flickered open a little. "W-what?"  
Everyone gave a small sigh of relief, and Remus couldn't help but smile a little. Harry blinked a few times, and then put his glasses back on. The red-head, Ron, and the girl, helped him clamber back into his seat, where he sat and obviously tried to remember what just happened.  
"Are you okay?" Ron asked Harry.  
"Yeah." Harry looked towards the door suddenly, remembering what had been there only minutes before. "What happened? Where's that- that thing? Who screamed?"  
Remus frowned, along with everyone else around Harry.  
"No one screamed." Said Ron, sounding nervous.  
Harry looked around at his friends, while Remus reached into his pocket and grabbed out a bar of chocolate, something he carried with him at all times. Sirius used to tease him for being an addict.  
"But I heard screaming-," Harry said, just as Remus snapped a piece off and made everyone jump. He smiled apologetically, then handed a piece down to Harry.  
"Here. Eat. It'll help."  
Harry took the piece gently, looking at him curiously, but he didn't eat it. "What was that thing?"  
"A dementor. One of the dementor's of Azkaban."  
Everyone stared, as he handed them all the remaining chocolate and crumpled up the wrapping. They all looked so young.  
 _So young to be caught up in all this madness._ The word madness made him think of Sirius, so he wuickly pushed the word away, focusing again on Harry.  
"Eat," he repeated. "It'll help. I need to speak to the driver, excuse me…"  
Remus turned and left the compartment, making his way down the corridor, occasionally stopping at places and reassuring students that there was nothing to fear, the Dementors had gone. A pair of red-headed twins that Remus suspected were relatives of the Ron boy, were angry in their nervous state, saying that Dementors shouldn't be allowed to patrol trains without someone keeping an eye on them, and Remus couldn't help but agree, but also struggled to think of anyone who would be willing to work with Dementors round the clock.  
He made it to the driver, checking on him. He was shaken like everyone else, saying he couldn't turn them away, trying to explain to them that Sirius couldn't possibly be on the train hadn't worked. Remus reassured him that this was normal Dementor behaviour, and advised him on eating a chocolate frog while he drove them the rest of the way to the school.  
Remus then made his way back towards the compartment with harry and his friends, and paused as he saw none of them had eaten. They all looked at him in a certain awe, though Harry looked slightly suspicious.  
 _Such a smart boy already, but such a shame to be so untrusting at his age._  
"I haven't poisoned that chocolate, you know…" he told them.  
harry took a bite, and Remus suspected it was out of politeness rather than a desire to eat, but Remus saw his slight surprise at the chocolates effect.  
"We'll be at Hogwarts in ten minutes." He told them all as their faces gained some colour back from the chocolate. "Are you alright Harry?" he asked, and saw Harry's slight balk. _Of course, he doesn't know how I know his name._  
"Fine." Harry muttered back, not looking at anyone. Remus realised he was probably embarrassed at being the only one who fainted.  
No one talked much during the remainder of the journey, and when the train finally pulled in the Hogwarts platform, there was a nervous hurry in everyone's movements to get off the train, like Rats in a nest that had just been disturbed.  
It was freezing outside, and Remus pulled his thinned, frayed coat around him, but it didn't do much good. He could hear Hagrid's rough, jolly voice in the sleeted darkness, but the cold and recent events prevented him from smiling. Remus made his way to the coach's, pulled by the Thestrals, that none of the students seemed to see. Remus, seeing them glistening in the dark, swallowed nervously.  
 _It's just the dementors still messing with your head. Stop thinking about it._ He climbed into one of them, not joined by anyone else as they took off quickly to get out of the cold, towards the castle.  
It was making their way up the stone steps that Remus spotted Harry and his friends again, who had been stopped by a sneering boy with almost white-blonde hair, with two troll-like boys flanking him. Remus recognized the boy's pointed face and cold eyes immediately. _Malfoy._  
His suspicions were confirmed when Ron growled through a clenched jaw, "Shove off, Malfoy."  
"Did you faint as well, Weasley?" the Malfoy boy said loudly, drawing a few eyes from other passing students, but everyone seemed too keen to get inside to much care. "Did the scary old Dementor frighten you too, Weasley?"  
Remus rolled his eyes and approached.  
"Is there a problem?" he asked quietly.  
The Malfoy boy was not intimidated, and his judging stare was fearless as he took in Remus' undoubtedly ragged and sorry appearance, right from his greying hair, sallow face, to his old clothing.  
"Oh, no- er, _Professor."_ The Malfoy boy said, hiding his sneer as poorly as his father would have, then turned and went up the stairs to the castle.  
The bushy-haired girl gave Remus a thankful smile, then prodded Ron in the back and they made their way quickly up the steps.

Remus was filled with a familiar wonder as he entered the castle, looking around with lifted spirits. He, like Harry he suspected, only ever truly found home at Hogwarts. Before, his parents had forced them to stay on the road his whole childhood, and he hadn't known friendship until he'd come here. He remembered James's face appearing out a crowd and Sirius smiling behind him, and clapping him on the shoulder.  
"You look like you could use a good feed, come on, I hear the feasts here are _excellent._ "  
And they had been. And the classes. And the grounds. And the dorms. And the teachers. And, most importantly, Dumbledore. However, Remus still felt guilt at going behind Dumbledore's back and helping his friends with the Animagus enchantment.  
Remus even soar Peeves and smiled, despite Peeves recognizing him immediately and taunting about being 'Rugged, Ragged, wretched Remus,' and 'Luny, Loony, Loopy Lupin.' Luckily, the students simply thought that he was repeating 'Loony' twice, instead of referring to the full moon phase that turned Lupin into a hungry, blood-thirsty wolf.  
After the feast, and trying not to meet Snape's leeringly angry eyes, Lupin made himself at home in his new office, taking deep breaths and hoping he wouldn't have nightmares about the dementors.  
He didn't, but instead his dreams were filled with familiar faces and the smell of parchment. 


	2. Chapter 2

The smell of dirt was stuffed in his nostrils, and he brushed past thick, old spiderwebs that drifted in the slightest movement of the air. He padded along, trying to stay warm, feeling thankful that he had a fur coat, and four legs. He followed the tunnel, as it sloped up and down, until finally he could smell fresh air, and started to canter until a dull, grey light filtered into the tunnel. He could smell vegetation above him- the Whomping Willow, the grass, and the Forbidden Forest just down the hill.  
He poked his head out of the tunnel's entrance slowly, glancing around to make sure there was no sign of the students, teachers, or of the Game Keeper Hagrid. As he searched the grounds, slowly rising from the tunnel, he spotted a patch of light colour that made him pause. It was the ginger cat he'd seen many times before. It was sitting just out of the tree's range, staring right at him. Padfoot pulled back his lip in a silent snarl, but he didn't feel it necessary. He didn't feel any hostility off this cat.  
Instead of arching its back and hissing back, the cat stood, and started to approach him. Padfoot watched in wonder, and glanced up at the Whomping Willow's branches, and they started to twitch and sway, at the approaching creature. Quick as a dart, the cat ran across before the first branches could whip down, kicking up dirt and grass. Sirius gave out a short 'boof' of a bark, but the cat leaped, and landed on a knot in the tree. The willow shivered, and then stilled.  
The cat now stood directly in front of him, as he stared at it, flanks quivering as he restrained his canine instincts to chase it. It flicked its tail, obviously feeling irritated at his tense attitude. He forced himself to calm, and gave the cat a few curious sniffs, and his tail wagged ever-so-slightly. The cat licked his nose once, then turned and trotted from beneath the tree again, tail high. Padfoot knew that he had to follow, and did, racing quickly from beneath the tree. There was no telling when it could stir again.  
The sun had set quickly, and Padfoot was careful to stick to the shadows, despite the fact that darkness was settling. The castle was mainly quiet, but Padfoot could smell food, and the heavy scent of pumpkin. Beneath his mainly canine thoughts, he smiled to himself. But then he remembered why he was there, and followed the cat up the stairs and into the gap of the doors. Not a single person, living or dead, was in the halls, on the stair cases or in open classrooms. The portraits paid no attention to him and the cat. They must have assumed he was a pet, despite dogs being a very unpopular pet in Hogwarts due to their very limited magical ability, their higher chances of being disturbing, and their higher demand for care and attention, leading to Fang, Hagrid's boarhound, being the only dog on the premises.  
 _They must think I_ am _Fang._ He thought, realising that the portraits would have rarely seen the boarhound, if ever.  
he recognized the route that the cat was taking him, up to the Gryffindor tower common room. He remembered the rest of the way, and matched the cat for speed. Finally, they reached the large portrait of the fat lady in pink, who was talking happily with another figure in her portrait, who was clearly not to be there, but they quickly left with a few laughs, the fat lady waving them off. Padfoot tossed his head and transformed, being quick and painless. When he stood in human form was when the fat lady finally noticed him, and gave a shriek of fright.  
"Wh-what do you want? Who are you!?"  
"Let me in."  
"What? No! You need the password."  
Sirius cursed. he didn't know it, naturally. He'd forgotten about that.  
"This is important."  
"No! I won't let you in."  
"I _need_ to."  
"No!"  
Sirius gave out a yell of rage, bashing at the wall next to the frame.  
"LET ME IN! I need to get to him!"  
The fat lady was shaking very hard now, tears could be spotted in her eyes, but she still shook her head.  
"You can't! Not without the password."  
"URRRGGGH!" Sirius roared, and he slashed at her in half-transformation, his hands growing large, black claws that ripped across the canvas and shredded some of it to the ground. He could hear the Fat Lady scream and saw her run from the painting. Still enraged, he took it out on the already-wrecked painting, ripping at it viciously, before turning away, huffing in human form. He heard someone nearby, above him, and he looked up darkly, long enough to see Peeves the famous Poltergeist spot him, and gasped while floating in mid-air.  
Sirius decided it was time to go, and leaped down the stair case in a single leap, then raced down the next few flights. Half-way down another one, he transformed, and pelted down hallways, and past the Great Hall, which he could hear the feast ending, as the benches were scraping back across the stone and hundreds of feet tromping tiredly out. He went passed it before anyone spotted him, and skidded outside the main entrance. Out in the open, on flat land, he had no trouble running full-pace back to the tree, powered by anger and by fear at almost being spotted. He approached the willow, which stirred, feeling that he was nearby. But he was too quick. Much like the cat, he darted below its branches before it attacked, and plummeted into the hollow. Finally, safe, he panted, then transformed into man again.  
Looking down at his dirty hands, and long, chipped fingernails, he punched the dirt nearby, yelling, "Dammit! Dammit! Dammit!"  
He'd let his emotions get the better of him, as usual. Now the castle would be completely impossible to penetrate. Dumbledore might even allow the Dementors closer to the castle, now that Sirius had made it inside, and with little trouble, too.  
He heard something above him, and scrambled in panic, but it was just the ginger cat, who blinked down at him and purred. Sirius smiled, and tilted his head to the side. The cat leaped into the hollow, landing in his lap, and Sirius rubbed its ears affectionately.  
He would just have to get to Pettigrew some other way.

Later, when the panting was discovered, and Dumbledore called, Peeves was holding back giggles. Oh, how much _fun_ this all was. The terror or the students, which made his colours brighter and his bells tinkle louder. Dumbledore appeared before the painting, and ordered to the teachers,  
"We need to find her. Professor McGonagall, please go to Mr. Filch at once and tell him to search every painting in the Castle for the Fat Lady."  
Peeves couldn't help himself. "You'll be lucky!" he cackled at them, and everyone looked up at him, including Dumbledore.  
"What do you mean Peeves?" Dumbledore asked. Seeing a certain fire in the old man's eyes, Peeves couldn't help straightening up a bit, and smiled a little less.  
So, he said in a less pleasant voice, "Ashamed, your Headship, sir. Doesn't want to be seen. She's a horrible mess. Saw her running through the landscape up on the fourth floor, sir, dodging between the trees. Crying something dreadful," he said happily. "Poor thing." He added, but nobody seemed convinced of his concern. They had a right to be sceptical. He was doing all he could not to laugh so plainly.  
"Did she say who did it?" said Dumbledore quietly.  
"Oh yes, Professorhead," peeves replied, remembering the fat lady's shrieking, shaking telling of the monstrous man a few floors down, that had made Peeves swoop straight towards the wrecked portrait. He'd spotted the man himself, dark and deranged, before he'd taken off down the stairs. "He got very angry when she wouldn't let him in, you see." He flipped over and looked at all their terrified, sober faces as he said, "Nasty temper he's got, that Sirius Black." 


	3. Chapter 3

Life at Hogwarts was always interesting, there was no denying that. But the truth was, it had gotten far more interesting since the famous Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, had arrived. By his third year, he'd faced off He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named twice more, fought monsters and solved mysteries that even the best Auror's hadn't. But Oliver Wood didn't care about any of that. All he cared about was Potter's uncanny skill at Quidditch, and his ability catch a snitch in every game. Despite this fact, they still hadn't got the Quidditch Cup, due to the world's insatiable desire to try kill Harry, and burn Wood's hope of ever having the silver cup in his hands.  
Then, Wood's final year came around, and he couldn't help but feel an urgency. He needed this. He needed this year to be the one that they won, the one where they squashed Slytherin's nasty faces into the muddy ground.  
So, even though he knew he was driving his team a little nuts in the rain, cold, and sludge, even though his own bones and muscles ached from the work, and his grades slightly suffered, he pushed them harder than ever before, and devised ways of getting the upper hand.  
And then, when their game with Hufflepuff finally came around, he knew they'd had it in the bag. Well, at least he'd thought they did.  
Then, long into a hopeless game that they were still managing to win, he'd felt the cold seep into his very soul, let alone his clothes. Everything seemed to slow down, and sounded like ice cracking in sudden heat. His eyes drew themselves down to the ground, and he saw a sight that only added to the freezing inside him. The Dementors, down on the field.  
Realising something, he looked into the sky hurriedly, and spotted several things. The first, was most of the other players had stopped like he had, staring down at the hooded figures through the rain. The second, made his heart drop. Cedric Diggory, flying down quickly, obviously chasing what could only be the snitch. The last sight made him feel worse than anything.  
Harry Potter, falling from his broom, pelting so fast that trying to catch him from this height would kill him as quickly as hitting the ground would. Wood ripped out his wand, but Potter started slowing before he had even straightened his arm, and he watched as Harry hit the ground at a much slower, softer pace.  
Wood wasted no time in flying down, and on his way, he saw the tall figure of Dumbledore storming onto the grounds, and his expression of fury took Wood back. It seemed the headmaster was made of lightning, cracking at the Dementors, forcing them to flee. He could see, nearly hear Dumbledore over the thunder, as he yelled and threw spells at them, one of them a particularly bright light that flew at them through the rain.  
Wood landed a short distance from Harry, and ran towards him, seeing the rest of his team do the same. But Dumbledore got their first, and made a stretcher appear out of mid-air, and Potter rose from the mud and floated onto it.  
"Sir!" Wood called, catching up to the headmaster. "Please sir, is he alright!?" Wood had already almost been responsible for Potter getting hurt last time, that time by a rogue bludger that had ended up breaking Potter's arm.  
"He'll be alright, Wood, I'll take him from here. Please, get back to your team and Madam Hooch." Dumbledore said, quite curtly, so Wood stopped and watched him walk away, casting several spells that deflected the rain from Harry, as other teachers caught up to him, while others, along with Prefects, got the rest of the students from the stands.  
Wood's shoulders drooped, and he jumped when a hand clapped onto his shoulder.  
"Oliver, Hooch wants us." Said Fred, rather grimly, while glancing after where Dumbledore had taken Harry. Wood nodded, and followed them under cover, where everyone was looking ill and grim.  
"Wood, is he okay?" Cedric Diggory asked, but Wood was staring at the glinting gold in his hands. Diggory noticed, and opened his palm with a stricken face, revealing the snitch, which twitched its glittering wings.  
"It doesn't count Wood." He said quickly. He turned to Madam Hooch. "I want a rematch, this was plain unfair-,"  
"No." Wood said, rubbing his eyes with a sigh, before Hooch could say anything. "It was fair and square, you caught it."  
"But-,"  
"You were dozens of feet ahead of Harry, chances were that you would have caught it anyway." He held out his hand. "Good game."  
Diggory looked pained, but gripped his hand softly.  
"Well, if you boys are sure," Madam Hooch said, "Hufflepuff wins."  
No one cheered.

Later, Oliver led his team to the change rooms, the girls and boys splitting to their different sections. No one said anything, apart from the twins' occasional angry outburst about the Dementors, but no one had the heart to be as angry as them, and their attempts at getting them riled failed. Eventually they too fell into silence.  
Wood stood under the shower head, letting the water cascade his back, not realising how cold it was until one of the twins swore behind him, and reached past him and turned on the heat.  
"Merlins Beard Wood, you wanna catch a cold!?" Fred asked, who's middle was wrapped in a towel. Wood's skin broke out in goose-bumps as the heat flooded his body, and he looked at them glumly, not replying. The twins glanced at each other.  
"Hey, look, we're going up to see Harry. You coming?" Fred asked.  
Wood imagined seeing Harry, once again in the hospital wing, because of Quidditch. Because of Wood, and his stupid obsession with winning.  
"I'll go up later. Thanks." He sounded flat, even to himself. George clapped him on a shoulder, before they left.  
Wood pressed his head against the tiles, and grabbed at his hair. Why was all this going so wrong? All he really cared about was Quidditch, but he cared more about his team. He remembered Fred's angry face the year before, saying how Wood had put Harry up to danger by telling Harry had better catch the snitch or else.  
He hadn't said anything alike this year, but the way he had trained them was even more effective in his intention.  
He stayed there for a long time. The twins even came back to check on him, and came back again to finally talk him out of the shower.

He got around to visiting Harry over the weekend, and he seemed put out by something, and Wood was terrified that Harry _did_ blame Wood, for pushing him so hard, to breaking point, to the point where the wind had simply knocked him off.  
"I'm so relieved you're okay though." Wood said to Harry, sitting by his bed.  
"Don't worry Wood, we still got this. We still have a chance, we'll get it this year, I promise."  
Wood smiled, despite himself. "Thanks Harry. Get better soon, we'll need you back in the field."  
Later, he realised again how selfish he'd been. _'We'll need you back in the field?'_ Was that really all he could come up with, as words of encouragement? Couldn't he think for a second about something else? Why couldn't he have said something like _'Ron and Hermione want you back.'_ Or _'We're all mad at the Dementors, don't let them get you down.'_  
He was brooding on one of the window seats in the Common Room when the twins found him again.  
"Come on Wood, it wasn't that bad a loss. Besides, Hufflepuff might still loose to Ravenclaw." George said.  
Wood shook his head. "It's not that."  
The twins raised eyebrows at each other. "Oh?"  
"Well then, what is it? You're making the candles burn lower." Fred said.  
Oliver told them about his inner doubts, and how he couldn't help but blame himself. The twins watched him, goggling, and when he finished, they laughed.  
"That's a bit below the belt, don't you recon?" Wood snapped.  
"Sorry, Cap'm, but it's irony at its finest." George said, resting an arm on his twin's shoulder.  
"What are you on about?"  
"Harry doesn't blame you." Fred said with a snort. " _He_ thinks _he's_ to blame. For not catching the snitch faster-,"  
"-And fainting, we expect. Those Bloody Dementors give him a hard time, but honestly-,"  
"-Who isn't, they're practically making people drop into despair-,"  
"-Let alone dropping out of the sky."  
Wood blinked at them. "So, he's not mad at me?"  
"'Course not!" They said together, grinning at him.  
Feeling a little hope return to him, Oliver stood up. "Alright then. I've got to talk to Granger then, see if she knows any other nifty spells like that one she put on Harry's glasses. See you guys later."  
As he almost skipped away from the twins, he saw them high-five in the reflection of a window.  
Well, if Harry was blaming himself, that was no good. Wood had to show him that it was always a team effort, but circumstances happened. And no one could help that all the time. Could they?


	4. Chapter 4

The room of requirement was silent. A void in the middle of a bustling school. Though, Draco thought, it wasn't bustling so much anyway. Everyone seemed to skitter rather than walk. Everyone seemed to glance over their shoulders. And everyone seemed to glare at _him,_ Draco. Especially the famous Harry Potter.  
Draco's jaw clenched at the thought, but unfortunately it simply dropped. Potter was the least of his problems. He looked up at the cabinet before him, feeling the usual dread inside of him as he stared at its looming, dark doors, afraid that any second then, the doors would creak open and his Aunt Bellatrix would step through, followed by Fenrir or her other friends.  
He stepped away from it, hesitating as always. Being torn inside. If he did all this, pulled it off, he'd be a killer. If he didn't, he'd be killed. He stood there for minutes on end, staring at the cabinet until he had it carved into his very mind. He knew he'd have nightmares about it later.  
But as usual, slightly choking on silent sobs, he gave in, and reached into his pocket for the apple.


End file.
